


Demon Delinquent

by relucant



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Come Marking, Demon Dean Winchester, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mark of Cain, Object Insertion, Panty Kink, Police Officer Castiel, Smut, Spanking, Top Castiel, Twink Dean, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relucant/pseuds/relucant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  </p><p>Dean Winchester was perched on the trunk of an old Continental, hands cuffed behind his back, but bright-eyed and relaxed, looking for all the world like he was sat in his favorite booth at Benny's diner.</p><p>Dean had been a low-grade troublemaker since his adolescence, turning up at the station with stolen bread and an unrepentant grin, or bloody knuckles and a scowl.  But Lawrence was a small town, and anyone who'd ever dealt with John Winchester in the drunk tank had a few ounces of sympathy for the kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning: there are some MAJOR tone switches between chapters! I'm still figuring out how to tie this fic together (or how to break it apart); suggestions always welcome! but always, always a happy ending. :)
> 
> (also, uh, this is probably the smuttiest smut I've ever smutted.)

_2005_

Cas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Dean Winchester was perched on the trunk of an old Continental, hands cuffed behind his back, but bright-eyed and relaxed, looking for all the world like he was sat in his favorite booth at Benny's diner.

Dean had been a low-grade troublemaker since his adolescence, turning up at the station with stolen bread and an unrepentant grin, or bloody knuckles and a scowl. But Lawrence was a small town, and anyone who'd ever dealt with John Winchester in the drunk tank had a few ounces of sympathy for the kid.

And Dean had a way of ingratiating himself even to the grizzled veterans of the force, looking up through the golden fan of his lashes, explaining earnestly how Sammy needed a lunch that day. Or how the town bullies had been torturing a cat, and that the cat was now curled up purring under Sammy's bed, and Gordon Walker was sporting a broken nose.

Nobody could ever quite bring themselves to be the one sending Dean home to John Winchester with a police record.

But now Dean was just a few days shy of his twentieth birthday, according to his dubious file, and Cas had caught him trying to hotwire the old car outside a local roadhouse.

"Dean, you know I have to bring you in for this," he said. "There are security cameras all over."

Dean shrugged. "I got it taken care of," he said unconcernedly. "I know a girl."

"What do -- you know what, don't tell me," Cas said, rubbing his temple. "What were you even trying to do?"

"Uh, steal a car?" Dean said, blinking innocently. "Thought that was obvious, Officer Novak."

Cas glared at him, trying to ignore the way the moonlight played on the freckles scattered across his cheeks.

"OK, OK," Dean said. "It's just… Sammy's got a soccer game tomorrow. And Dad's on a hunting trip. Hasn't been home in a few days."

Cas groaned, his head falling into his hand. "And so you decided to hotwire a car. For a soccer game. You couldn't have called a teammate or something?"

"Yeah, 'cause people are real thrilled to help out the town drunk and delinquent. And I gotta take care of Sammy. S'my _job_."

Anger flared in Cas' stomach, at Dean, at John, at the hypocritical assholes who ostracized the Winchesters. "You can't take care of Sammy if you're in _jail_. Or in the hospital, let alone _dead_."

"Ooh, you're even cuter when you're feisty," Dean drawled with a wink, and Cas resolutely shut down the tingling that sent down south.

"This not the opening to a bad pornography, Dean."

"On the contrary," Dean said, smirking, "I'm handcuffed in an empty parking lot by the hottest cop I ever seen. Sounds like a pretty good porn, if you ask me."

"That is inappropriate," Cas growled.

"Why?" Dean countered. "We're adults, aren't we?"

"You are a _teenager_."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, I'm twenty. Or I will be on Tuesday. You can't be more'n, what, twenty-five, twenty-six?"

"Twenty-four," Cas admitted. "But I am a police officer."

"Well," Dean said cheerfully, but his eyes were dark. "Way I see it, if you ain't arresting me, that don't matter much. Less you don't wanna get yourself dirty with the Winchester filth either. Can't blame you for that."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "You know that isn't true. Do not try to manipulate me."

Dean studied him for a moment, then slid off the car with feline grace, despite his cuffed hands, crowding into Cas' space.

"You sure 'bout that?" he asked with a pointed look at Cas' slacks, the thin material doing nothing to hide his arousal. "Seems to be workin' to me. _Officer Novak_."

Cas stared at him, then shoved him hard against the car, wrapping a hand in his hair.

"I could drag you down to jail right now, Dean," he whispered. "You should show me some respect."

Dean's eyes slipped closed and he let out a breathy groan, and the last of Cas' resolve crumbled. He kissed Dean hard, still keeping one hand in his hair, and Dean's hands twisted behind his back, grasping at nothing. Dean arched up, pressing his considerable hardness against Cas' groin, but Cas grabbed him by the hips, holding him still.

Finally Cas broke away. "Wait," he gasped. "Dean. You aren't -- you aren't doing this to get out of being arrested, are you?"

Dean tensed. "Glad you have such a high opinion of me," he said flatly. "Now I'm a whore, too?" He tried to pull away, but Cas gripped him tight.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it like that. I just… I wanted to make sure I wasn't taking advantage of you."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Think I've given you a pretty clear invitation to take advantage of me. Shit, dude, I've wanted your dick since you picked me up for truancy when I was 15."

Cas snorted softly. "I think you were my first hardened criminal after I was sworn in."

"Could do worse," Dean avowed. "And, uh, speaking of hardened…" He rolled his hips, the outline of his cock obvious in his jeans.

"Christ, you're incorrigible," Cas murmured, but he pulled Dean closer, sliding his hands around. He dropped a sharp smack to his ass and Dean let out a breathy growl. "You like that?" he asked, giving the other side a twin spank. Dean didn't answer, but Cas could feel his cock jerking against his own.

"Yeah, you do," he whispered. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of his jeans, then froze when instead of cotton or flannel, his fingertips brushed over satin and lace.

"Jesus, Dean," he croaked. "Were you _planning_ on seducing me?"

"B'lieve it or not, I didn't _plan_ on gettin' caught," Dean reminded him, breathless. "Can't say I mind the handcuffs though."

Cas gripped the material between his fingers and twisted, tugging it between Dean's cheeks and pulling the material tight over his leaking cock. It had to have ached, but Dean just tilted his head back and moaned, and Cas could feel his own dick jerking in response.

"You know," Cas whispered, nipping at the shell of Dean's ear, "just because I'm not arresting you doesn't mean you needn't be punished."

Dean let out a high, needy whine, and Cas took it as permission to flip him back over. He yanked up Dean's t-shirt, spreading it over the grimy metal under his face, then went to work on his jeans with shaky hands, tugging them down to pool at his feet.

Finally Dean was spread out panting, naked but for the t-shirt pulled up under his arms, the shiny fabric bunched into his crack and the cuffs around his wrists. Cas yanked the panties tighter, and the seams pinched cruelly at his balls, but Dean just arched his back, hands flexing desperately.

"Cas, please," he whimpered, and Cas slapped his ass sharply.

"Is that what you call me?"

"O- _Officer_. Officer Novak."

"Better," Cas said. "But I think you need to learn some discipline." He ran his hand down the skin of Dean's back, pale in the moonlight, then leaned in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Do you agree, Dean?" he asked, voice serious and oddly soft.

"Yes," Dean hissed, wriggling his hips. "Yes, _Cas_..."

Cas' eyes darkened, and he pressed a hand on the back of Dean's neck, gentle but firm. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this?" he murmured, smacking him again. "Every time you prance into the station, with those big innocent eyes…" He spanked him relentlessly, skin quickly turning pink into red in the dim light of the parking lot. "Thought about taking you down to the holding cell, spanking that smug smile off your face."

Dean somehow managed to throw a cheeky grin over his shoulder, eyes hazy with pain and lust. "How's that -- how's that goin' for you, Officer?"

Cas grabbed the panties and pulled hard, drinking in Dean's incoherent mewl, and ground his dick against the fabric taut between his cheeks.

"I'd say it's going well," he said, then reached down with both hands to pinch Dean hard.

"Cas," Dean gasped. "Please, please --"

Cas slapped him again, but snaked a hand around to squeeze at his cock, the panties already soaked over the head.

Dean cried out and thrust up instinctively, but stilled himself with obvious effort. "Want to -- want to suck you," he mumbled. "Please, Cas -- Officer -- can I?"

Cas choked back a groan. He hauled Dean upright and spun him around, palming at the hot flesh of his ass, and pulled him into a hard wet kiss. Dean opened under his tongue, then dropped to his knees, mouthing at Cas' slacks. Cas reached down to help him, but Dean just nudged his hand away, so Cas wrapped his fingers in his hair, watching in awe as Dean worked the button open and tugged the zipper down with his teeth.

"Jesus, Dean," he grated out. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Dean smirked up at him. "Not quite to murder yet, Officer," he drawled. He caught the fabric in his teeth and slowly pulled, shifting back and forth until it was over Cas' hips and slipped easily to the ground, then arched back up to repeat it.

As soon as the white cotton boxers were puddled on the ground Dean sat back on his heels. He eyed Cas up and down, lingering on his cock, rock-hard and leaking on the hem of his blue uniform shirt.

"I like that shirt," he said, finally meeting Cas' gaze. "It matches your eyes."

Without further warning he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the head of Cas' dick, and Cas choked back a moan. He was well aware that this was seven sides of unethical, but as he stared down at Dean, a wicked smirk in his green eyes even as Cas' cock disappeared between spit-slick lips, his moral fiber seemed very far away.

He tugged gently on Dean's golden hair, and the resultant encouraging hum sent shivers of pleasure up his spine. He pulled harder and Dean groaned around his dick, then tilted his head back to take him all the way down his throat.

Finally Dean pulled off with a filthy pop, staring up through his eyelashes. "I want you to fuck me," he said, Cas' cock still bouncing on his lips, "while I suck you."

Cas blinked at him in surprise, breathing unsteady. "I don't think either of us are that flexible, Dean…"

For the first time that night a hint of shyness crept into Dean's features. Blushing slightly, he let his gaze drift down to the ground where Cas' nightstick lay abandoned, then back up to Cas' face.

"Jesus, Dean," he said hoarsely. "Dirty little thing, aren't you?"

Dean shrugged, shy smile melting into a smirk. "Guess you've given me a cop kink."

"Christ," Cas breathed. He picked up the nightstick and cleaned it carefully on his shirt before setting it on the trunk of the car, then hauled Dean to his feet. He kissed him until they were both gasping into each other's mouths, then spun Dean around and bent him back over the car.

Cas stepped back for a moment to admire the sight before him. Dean was sprawled out wantonly, one foot braced on the bumper, and his ass still glowed hot and red around the pink fabric wedged taut between his cheeks. His eyes were half-closed, and his hands clawed desperately at the air.

"So gorgeous," he murmured, laying a pair of fresh handprints on his skin.

He grabbed his baton and rubbed it along Dean's crack, then slid it under the waistband and began pushing the material down. 

Dean mewled, trying to shove himself back. "Cas, Officer, Cas, c'mon, please…"

Cas stopped him with another sharp slap. "I am not shoving this thing inside you unprepared," he admonished. "Tempting as you may be."

"Then _prepare_ me," Dean snarled. Cas pulled out the nightstick and spanked him again, not hard, but Dean still hissed at the impact on his tender flesh.

"Eager," Cas said. He dragged the panties down until they were stretched across the crease of Dean's ass and thighs, still trapping his cock. Spreading his cheeks, he tapped gently but firmly at Dean's hole with the tip of the baton, and Dean writhed.

"This what you want?" he murmured. "Want me to make you come all over this car, my nightstick deep inside you and my cock in your mouth?"

"Yes…"

Cas growled, rolling the plastic roughly over the tender skin, then bent down to tongue at Dean's ass, and Dean cried out. He tried to push back but Cas gripped his hip and spanked him hard.

"Be still," he warned, then trailed his hand down to slide his index finger in under his tongue, soon joined by the middle.

By the time Cas had three fingers working in and out, Dean was a panting mess. From the trembling in his limbs, he was dangerously close to coming, so Cas pulled his fingers out reluctantly.

"Do you have any lube?" he asked, stroking his hand soothingly down Dean's back.

"Don't need," Dean ground out. "Please, Cas, 'm ready…"

Cas spanked him again, and Dean groaned.

"Jeans. In the -- in the pocket."

"Good boy," Cas whispered. He bent down to fumble for the jeans, getting momentarily distracted by the chance to kiss and lick the hot skin of Dean's ass, but eventually came up with a small tube of lube. "You're _sure_ about this…?"

Dean gave him a hazy glare over his shoulder. "If you don't fuck me with that thing I'll do it myself, so help me --"

Cas raised an interested eyebrow. "Now there's an idea," he murmured. "I'd like to see that." He cleaned the baton carefully again before slicking it up until it was dripping with lube, then poured the rest on Dean's ass and worked it inside until his hole was wet and open.

"Tell me if I hurt you," Cas said seriously, pressing the blunt head of the instrument against him.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "S'good. Fuck."

Cas finally pushed the end inside, just an inch, and Dean's head tipped forward.

"More, please," he begged, and Cas watched in awe as another few inches disappeared inside. As soon as it met any resistance he stopped, pulling it only slowly before sliding it back in, and Dean keened, sweat shiny on his skin.

"There?" Cas asked, twisting the baton, and Dean jerked and shuddered.

He played with it for several minutes, pushing and angling experimentally, but when he reached around to thumb at Dean's cock, he stopped him.

"Wait," he gasped. "Wait, wait." He shifted his arms down awkwardly until he could wrap his cuffed hands around Cas', and he began fucking himself with it slowly.

"Jesus," Cas breathed.

"Up here," Dean croaked, tilting his chin to indicate the trunk. "Wanna suck you."

"Are you trying to ruin me?" Cas asked, only half-joking, and Dean gave him a crooked smile.

Cas climbed onto the car, keeping one hand on Dean to steady his vulnerable posture, then slid carefully underneath him until Dean's head was resting in his lap. Dean took several deep, shuddering breaths, and Cas stroked his hair.

"Hey," he said, thumbing at his jaw until Dean was looking up at him. "Is this OK? Are you OK?"

"I'm great, Cas," Dean assured him. "Just a little intense. But 'm great." He nudged at Cas' thighs with his chin. "Gotta spread 'em a little, dumbass."

Cas rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help me smile quirking at his lips. "Bossy, aren't you, considering your current position?"

Dean just grinned up at him. "I've been told," he said, then leaned down to lick one long stripe up the length of Cas' cock.

"Fuck," Cas growled. "I hope you're not expecting me to last very much longer..."

"Me either," Dean gasped, and Cas could see his hands working the baton faster behind him and his cock grinding against the rough metal, protected only by the panties.

Dean wrapped his lips around his head again and sank down slowly, until his lips met Cas' groin. He kept their eyes locked, and Cas distantly filed away that mental picture for future use, with his cock twitching visibly in Dean's throat and his nightstick buried deep in his ass, and those leaf-green eyes shining up at him with open honest want.

Dean swallowed around him once, and his hips jerked reflexively, and Dean hummed approvingly around his dick.

"Dean," he growled, digging his fingernails into Dean's back, "Dean, I'm --"

Dean nodded slightly and swallowed again, and Cas locked up, shaking, coming in hot spurts down Dean's throat, hard enough to splash on his tongue and drip down his chin.

Dean didn't let his softening cock fall from his lips, licking up every drop he could even as he worked his ass desperately. Cas could feel his cock throbbing against his calf, and he reached down, twisting the baton to grind against his prostate right as he spanked his ass hard one final time.

Dean went rigid, and instantly thick ropes of come were sliding down his leg, pooling obscenely on the silver bumper. Cas kept his arms around him as he shuddered through his orgasm, catching him under his arms when his legs threatened to give out, then carefully eased the baton out, throwing it aside with a slightly hysterical giggle.

He slid down until he was firmly on his feet, then pulled Dean against him, cradling him against his chest. "Holy fuck," he said, dropping reverent kisses into the golden hair. "Holy fuck."

As the adrenaline faded, Dean seemed to shrink into himself, embarrassed. "I swear this wasn't what I had in mind when I hotwired that car," he mumbled, and Cas snorted.

"For once, I can't seem to find it in me to rebuke your criminal inclinations. But good thing I got the call… I'm guess it would have ended up differently if Sergeant Zack had turned up.

Dean shuddered. "Don't even put that image in my head." He paused, looking up at Cas with a teasing smirk. "Detective Balthazar's not half bad, though…"

Cas smacked his ass again, but lightly. "Don't be foul, Dean. You _do_ know he's my cousin, right?"

Dean blinked. "No shit? Guess the bizarre names make sense then. Not to mention the personalities."

"Don't you dare lump me in with that psychopath," Cas said indignantly, but he tightened his arms around him.

They stayed together in silence, wrapped in each other's warmth against the cool night air.

"Dean?"

"Um-hmm?"

"Uh… not to be presumptuous, but… does Sammy still need a ride to his game?"

Dean blinked at him. "Um, Cas, I'm not sure if dropping the Winchester boys off at a school soccer game in a cop cruiser is a great idea…"

Cas rolled his eyes. "I _do_ have a regular car, doofus."

"Oh." Dean shut his mouth sheepishly for a moment. "Uh, yeah, that -- that'd be awesome. Thanks, Cas."

"Well, I figured if I stopped you from stealing the car, it's kind of my responsibility," he said, kissing Dean's forehead, and Dean hummed in agreement.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

He wiggled his hands, still trapped behind his back in the cuffs. "Think you could undo these?"

Cas cocked his head in confusion, then flushed. "Sorry," he said, and Dean snickered. He managed to grab his pants in his toes and reached down to extricate the keys, keeping one arm around Dean as he fumbled the cuffs open. Dean stretched, joints popping in his elbows, and Cas rubbed gently at the raw lines circling his wrists.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean said again, settling his arms around Cas' neck.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Next time we do this, it better be your dick in my ass."

Cas snorted in surprised laughter. "Kindly remember, this was _your_ idea."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _I_ don't give a fuck about you," Cas snarled, shoving him down onto the hood of the Impala. "Thank your brother for calling in a favor. Otherwise I'd kill you like every other demon."
> 
> "Now that hurts, _Cas_ ," he mocked. "Know it's been awhile, but was I that forgettable?"
> 
> Cas stepped back. "What --?"
> 
> The demon gave an exaggerated sigh. He shifted, wiggling until his jeans dropped low enough to expose the lace at his hips, pink and soft on freckled skin. "Was hopin' you'd remember. Wore 'em just for you. Officer Novak."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer -- again, major tone switch here. still trying to work out structure. comments/criticism welcome!

_2015_

Cas finally got the cuffs snapped around the demon's wrist and he stood back, panting. A purple bruise was blossoming on his left cheekbone, and he blinked blood out of his eyes.

"Well," the demon said, voice thick with amusement, "y'got me. Got your demon blade ready? Oh wait, that's right -- you don't wanna kill me, you wanna _cure_ me."

" _I_ don't give a fuck about you," Cas snarled, shoving him down onto the hood of the Impala. "Thank your brother for calling in a favor. Otherwise I'd kill you like every other demon."

"Now that hurts, _Cas_ ," he mocked. "Know it's been awhile, but was I that forgettable?"

Cas stepped back. "What --?"

The demon gave an exaggerated sigh. He shifted, wiggling until his jeans dropped low enough to expose the lace at his hips, pink and soft on freckled skin. "Was hopin' you'd remember. Wore 'em just for you. Officer Novak."

He glanced back over his shoulder, and his eyes flickered from black to summer-green. Cas shrank away, wide-eyed.

"... _Dean_?" 

Cas stumbled back, reeling. He desperately willed for this to be some sort of Crossroads trick, but there was no mistaking the leaf-green of those eyes or the scattering of freckles, and the shape of his lips had been permanently seared into his brain, brought out in the darkest nights of loneliness and self-loathing.

"Guess Sammy didn't give you the deets 'bout his black-eyed brother, huh?"

Cas gaped at him, wide-eyed, racking his brain. When the tall man in the dark suit introducing himself as Agent Tyler had shown up at his home, hundreds of miles from Lawrence, after his mother and sister had been found dead on opposite sides of town from apparent simultaneous spontaneous combustion, questioning the guy's background had been the farthest thing from his mind.

And then he had grilled Cas with narrow-eyed focus, about his life and background and talents, he had grudgingly revealed the truth of his own name, and his suspicions about Cas' family -- that they had been targeted by demons because they had blood from an angelic lineage.

And in the three years since, after Cas had finally stopped blankly repeating _demons?_ and _angels?_ , after Sam had begun to teach him things he'd never needed to know how to do, things he'd never wanted to know existed -- salt rounds and sigils, shapeshifters and skinwalkers -- he had somehow never connected this Sam Winchester, this solemn, six and a half foot tall moose of a man, to the gangly adolescent with the floppy blonde hair and laughing eyes from another lifetime.

Dean was grinning at him, watching the wheels spin.

"But how," Cas said stupidly, and paused. "What _happened_ to you?"

"Life," Dean said simply, and his eyes slid to black. "A new kind of life."

"But Sam -- he wanted _me_ to --"

"Sammy's got it in his oversized head that he's gonna cure me," he said, rolling his eyes. "And word on the underside is that you got some magic angel blood in those pretty veins. But Sammy don't get it -- I _like_ the disease."

Cas just stared at him. "But why he never -- he never said --"

"Why he never told you his black-eyed brother was Dean Winchester, town delinquent of Lawrence, Kansas and one-time fucktoy of Officer Castiel Novak?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Guess he knew you wouldn't have come."

Cas flinched as if he'd been struck.

"You were never a fucktoy. Never."

"Oh, that's right," Dean said in a mocking sing-song. "'Cause you never _actually_ fucked me, right? Just shoved your nightstick up my ass and let me suck you off?"

"You… you _wanted it_..." he whispered.

"I wanted _you_ , Cas," Dean snarled. "And you _left_. I mean, you coulda just fucked me an' ignored me, I know I ain't worth more'n that, but pretending you cared, man, that was a new low."

"I had to," he choked out, barely audible.

"Yeah? Had to? You also the one who _had to_ watch Sammy watch the clock, promising him you'd be there 'cause you promised me? Had to watch his chance to actually belong somewhere tick away when they lost 'cause he didn't show up? Tell me, Cas, you the one who had to deal with my dad when he came home and found out I let Sammy down?"

"I _had to_ ," Cas yelled, knuckles white, then took a deep breath. "He -- Uriel -- Captain Uriel -- he knew."

Dean blinked and stepped back, the first small gesture of surprise he'd let slip, but his face quickly twisted itself back into a sneer.

"Couldn't dirty up your reputation, huh? Rising star of the Lawrence Police Force, bein' caught fraternizing with Dean Winchester?"

"No, Dean," Cas whispered, misery etched into his face. "I had to. And I swear to you, I did it -- I did all of it -- for you."

\---

_2005_

"Castiel," Uriel said in his cold drawl. "A word, please."

Cas blinked. "Of course, sir." He deposited his coffee on his desk and followed the captain into his office. Uriel gestured at the door and he shut it, a ball of fear coiling in his chest.

"Sit."

Cas sat. He folded his hands in his lap, crossed and uncrossed his legs. Uriel regarded him silently.

"You have been an asset to our department, Officer Novak," he finally said, not taking his eyes off Cas.

"Uh -- thank you -- thank you, sir."

"Mm," Uriel agreed. "Your numbers are good. You're well-liked within the force, and within the community. Many officers don't understand the importance of that."

"I -- yes, I think making oneself unpopular is -- is a hindrance to the job."

"Mm," Uriel said again. He sat for a moment, consideration in his dark eyes, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a photograph. "This was on my desk this morning."

Cas took it. It was a grainy picture, taken from a distance, but the blue of the Lawrence Police Department uniform shirt hanging off the subject's shoulders was obvious enough, and Cas' mess of dark hair was recognizable. As was the golden head of the boy clearly kneeling between his legs.

He opened his mouth without knowing what to say, but Uriel cut him off.

"Is this why that Winchester slime hasn't served any time?" he asked, lacing his hands together. "It would hardly be unprecedented, but I thought you'd have better taste…"

"No!" Cas bit out, then took a deep breath. "No. It wasn't -- that had never happened before, I swear it."

"So he was bribing you to not arrest him? Certainly, he's attractive enough, but we could bring him in on prostitution, Castiel."

"No," Cas said again, panicked. "No, it -- it was my fault, it was stupid, I -- _I_ was stupid. It wasn't like that."

Uriel eyed him speculatively. "So there's your weakness," he said slowly. "You _like_ him."

Cas' fingers flexed on the photograph until it began to crumple, and Uriel reached out to pluck it from his hand, then sat back.

"As I've said, you've been an asset to the force for several years now," he said. "And I have -- _had_ \-- no reason to distrust you. Do you swear to me that Dean Winchester has not been offering… _favors_... in return for leniency from the department?"

"Yes," Cas said, his knuckles white. "Yes, Captain. I give you my word. It was just…"

He bowed his head, and Uriel studied him a moment longer, then sighed.

"Fortunately for you, and for Mr. Winchester, I believe you, Castiel," he said. Cas let out a long breath, then Uriel tossed a manila folder onto his lap. "Here are your transfer papers to Sioux Falls, effective immediately."

Cas stared at them blankly. "What? But -- what?"

Uriel rubbed his temples. His eyes were unyielding. "Castiel, the existence of this photograph shows that somebody in this town is aware of what transpired between you and Dean Winchester last night," he said. "And the appearance of this photograph on my desk this morning shows that that individual is willing to use it. Your actions have put me in an untenable situation. If I continue to allow leniency towards the Winchester boy -- admittedly a mistake, on my part -- I suspect this photograph may proliferate. And if I do not, while you remain on the force, I fear this may set a precedent of manipulation against my officers."

"So you're -- so I'm -- _South Dakota_?"

Uriel sighed again. "I cannot outright fire you -- even if I wished to, which I do not -- without investigation as to why -- into you, the force, and by proxy, likely, Mr. Winchester. It is the simplest solution."

Cas nodded numbly, thumbing through the paperwork without seeing it.

"And, Castiel?" Uriel said, and Cas lifted his eyes. "I ask that you have no further contact with Dean Winchester before you leave. As harmful as this photograph is on my desk, it would be far more harmful should it find the hands of his father."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, it's been forever, I know! this chapter got a bit out of my control, but please enjoy this mess of angst, porn, and vaguely unsettling fluff.

Dean listened to Castiel's story with narrowed eyes and an unreadable expression.

"A tragic tale," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, and Cas flinched. "And in the ten years since, you never felt the need to clue me in?"

"I was scared," Cas whispered. "He was threatening to tell your father, to -- to _show_ him --"

"So I was old enough to fuck in a dirty parking lot, but not old enough to deal with my dad?" Dean drawled. "Not helpin' your case here, Cas."

"No," Cas agreed, staring at the floor. He wasn't afraid, despite the shifting eyes and the snarl twisting Dean's perfect features, but guilt churned in his belly. "I have no excuse. I couldn't stay, and I was scared; I thought it best to do as Uriel instructed, and disappear. And then, later…" He swallowed, then gave a small shrug. "I thought I should leave you alone. Leave you to live your own life."

"Yeah?" Dean hissed, his eyes flicking to black. "Guess we all know how that road turned out. Don't pretend you're so shocked, Castiel. Treat me worse than a fuckin' whore, pretendin' to care -- and hell, you didn't even _pay_ me. Least I could've fed Sammy more'n stale bread and stolen peanut butter."

Cas stumbled back until he hit the wall, and Dean followed him, shoving into his space despite his cuffed hands.

"Maybe that gets you off, huh?" He lowered his head, angling his mouth to Cas' ear. "Knowing _you're_ the one who pushed me down this road. Like that, officer? Like that power, I bet?"

Cas closed his eyes, turned his head away. He tried to tell himself it was the demon talking, not Dean -- not the golden-haired, bright-eyed boy that he'd always privately thought of as _his_ Dean -- but his stomach curdled.

"No," he whispered. "Dean -- I'm so sorry -- I would --"

He shut up as a hot mouth pressed against his, dirty and commanding.

"Know how many men I fucked, imaginin' they were you?" Dean murmured into his ear. "How many men I let fuck _me_?"

Cas squirmed weakly, but Dean bent his knee against the wall, trapping him.

"Oh, now you don't like this, hmm? Now that you're under me?" He bit lightly at Cas' neck, then rolled his hips, and Cas couldn't quite stifle a moan. "Ahh… you _do_ like it." He kissed Cas again, and Cas tried to turn his head, but instead he found his mouth opening of its own volition and he lost himself in the kiss, wet and filthy.

Slowly, though, the bruising pressure of Dean's mouth began to grow more gentle, and when Cas finally opened his eyes, Dean's were wide and green and wet.

"Cas," he murmured, still pressed against his lips.

"Dean." Cas maneuvered them around until Dean was pressed up against the wall, then fit his palms against Dean's jaw. "I have no excuse, but please believe me. I never wanted to hurt you. You didn't deserve it, any of this."

Dean snorted. "Course I _deserve_ it, Cas. Have we met?"

"No," Cas said fiercely. "Not any of it. Not your father, not Uriel, not me. Not -- not _this_."

"Cas, buddy, I let this happen. I _wanted_ it. Pretty sure by definition I deserve it."

Cas slid his thumbs behind Dean's ears, down his neck. "Sometimes the worst option is the only one you have," he said softly. "Believe me, I know."

Dean stared at him, and something cracked behind his eyes. He dropped his head to Cas' shoulder.

"I miss you, Cas," he admitted, muffled. "Hate that I miss you, all these years. Wanted to forget you. Your stupid eyes an' your stupid hair." He laughed without humor. "You'd think the black eyes'd take care of that, huh? Shit, man, I can't even be a demon right."

Cas pressed his hand over Dean's heart. "Because you're still in there. You're not a demon, not where it matters."

"Dude, you don't know the shit I've done. I did some bad shit before I even took the Mark, but these days… Cas, I dunno if I could live with it."

"It doesn't _matter_. Sam doesn't care. I don't care."

"Yeah, why would _you_ care?" Dean said with a shrug, but the malice was gone from his voice.

"I never stopped," Cas murmured. "I never forgot you." He tilted Dean's forehead against his. "Let me help you."

"How? How, Cas? Even if I wanted it gone, what're you gonna do? I can't even _die_ , dude, that's how fucked up this situation is."

"Don't _say_ that." He shook Dean gently. "Never say that. I don't know what we're going to do, but we're going to fix it." He slid his hands down Dean's arms until they met his wrists, still bound behind his back, and with a practiced touch the demon cuffs fell open. "I'm not scared of you, Dean."

He grabbed Dean's right hand and lifted it, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel, revealing the angry lines of the Mark etched into golden skin. He touched them gently with his fingertips, and Dean hissed.

"Fuck… Guess they weren't kiddin' 'bout that angel blood."

"I thought Sam was insane," Cas admitted. "I'd seen some strange things in my life as a police officer. Including many delusional people, which seemed more likely -- more preferable -- than angels and monsters."

"Yeah, well, 'm on the wrong side of that line."

"I'm not really an angel," Cas reminded him. "Much like you are not really a demon. I believe that's why Sam believes we have a chance, because we're both human at the core."

He pressed his lips against the edge of the Mark, then dragged his tongue along its lines. Dean let out a choking sound, swaying slightly. Cas caught him and tugged him down gently, until he was on the floor leaning against the wall, and Cas was kneeling between his legs.

"Does this hurt you?" he asked, smoothing his hand down his forearm.

"I don't know," Dean said blankly. "Yeah. Hurts like a fuckin' bitch, but it also… doesn't. I dunno. Shouldn't it hurt?"

"I don't know. I'm not exactly a professional demon doctor."

Dean rolled his eyes, a small smirk on his face, and something dangerously like hope curled into Cas' chest at the familiar gesture.

He lowered his mouth back down to the blackened skin and sucked gently.

"Cas," Dean whined, and his hips jerked. "Cas, fuck…"

Cas looked up at him without moving his mouth away. Dean's eyes were wide and filled with the human black of lust, and his lips were wet and parted. Cas brushed his thumb over the expanse of the Mark, then bit down softly, and Dean let out a snarl. He grabbed the collar of Cas' shirt and dragged him up into a desperate kiss.

"Cas, I need you," he growled. "Fuck it -- fuck the Mark, fuck the black eyes, fuck everything. I need you."

Cas groaned, yanking at Dean's flannel and pulling off his t-shirt, his gaze almost reverent as he drank in the sight of Dean's body. Dean had always been beautiful, even as an underfed teenager, but the skinny potential of his beauty had ripened into long, clean muscles tensing under golden freckled skin, and Cas reached out to run his hand from his collarbone down over his ribs.

"Hope you're plannin' on doin' more than that," Dean said, even as he arched into the touch.

"Much more." He brought their lips back together, then shrugged off his trenchcoat and spread it out on the cold concrete floor. Dean reached for his shirt, fumbling at the buttons, but Cas pushed him away long enough to urge him down onto his coat before shifting up to straddle his thighs.

"Too many -- fucking -- _clothes_ ," Dean muttered, working at Cas' buttons again, and Cas tilted his head back, growing even harder in his slacks as Dean's fingers slid down his torso. He pushed off his shirt, then nudged his fingertips under the waistband of Cas' slacks, pulling him closer.

"Yes," Cas gasped. He undid the button of Dean's jeans, yanking them down until the pink silk of his panties were visible at the hips. "Jesus, Dean -- so beautiful, so fucking _perfect_ \--"

"I'm a demon." He tugged at Cas' slacks until he could pull them over the curve of his ass. "Pretty fuckin' far from perfect."

Cas rolled off him, shoving off the rest off his clothes before pulling off Dean's, then situated himself between Dean's bent legs.

"Perfect," he breathed, twining his hands around Dean's thighs and kissing the inside of each knee. He bent his head and wrapped his lips around Dean's cock.

"Fuck!" Dean yelped, thrusting up into Cas' mouth. "Sorry, sorry, I --"

Cas hummed encouragingly, taking Dean deep into his throat.

"Cas," Dean warned, unable to keep his hips from jerking.

"Mm," Cas hummed. He was drooling saliva on Dean's cock, but somehow managed an air of almost feline sensuality. He pulled off, tongueing at the slit, then slipped a finger between his legs as he sucked him back down.

"Cas -- I'm gonna --"

Cas met his eyes and nodded, and almost instantaneously Dean was spasming, coming hot and thick in Cas' throat.

Cas licked him clean, and then with Dean's come still heavy on his tongue, he leaned down and licked at the Mark, spreading the hot liquid over it.

"What are you doin'?" Dean slurred.

"I'm not sure. I can only go by instinct, and --" he bent his head, and licked another long, slow swipe up his forearm -- "this feels right. And I'm still going to fuck you, as soon as you're ready."

Dean whined. "I'm _ready_. C'mon. Demon perks."

He jerked his hips, and sure enough his cock was already stirring again, but Cas smacked his thigh. "No, you're not. At all."

"Then _prepare me_."

Cas yanked him up into a kiss, hard but tender. "Um. I don't have…"

"Jeans," Dean gasped. "Pocket."

Cas turned towards him, still for a second. "I remember those words," he murmured. "I've replayed every second of that night. Do you know that? Do you know what you've meant to me, Dean Winchester?"

"Don't say that," Dean croaked. "I'm nothing. You're going to leave again."

"I'm _not_." He fumbled for the packet of lube and slicked up his fingers, sliding them between Dean's legs. "Whether anything works, or doesn't work, I'll stay with you as long as you'll have me." He pushed two fingers inside, and Dean groaned. "And so will Sam, you know."

"Dude. Can we please not talk about my baby brother when your hand is in my ass?"

Cas snorted softly, then added another finger. "Dean, you're -- you're luminous. I've never met anyone who could endure what you have and still glow so bright."

"Yeah, OK, enough with the chick-flick moments. Will you fucking fuck me already?"

"Yes." Cas plucked out a condom, but Dean batted it away. "Dude, if I'm mostly a demon and you're a little bit an angel -- don't think it's needed. And anyway. Want to feel you."

"God, yes," Cas murmured, tossing it to the side.

He shifted his hips up, working his cock at Dean's hole, then pushed inside.

" _Shit_ ," Dean hissed, and Cas froze. "No -- good, so good. Don't stop."

Tears pricked at Cas' eyes. "Are you going to leave me?" he whispered as he thrust upward. "I don't blame you -- but I --"

"I don't know," Dean cut him off. "Can we -- oh _fuck_ \-- talk about it -- later?"

"Yeah." Cas peppered tiny wet kisses all over Dean's torso, rolling his hips in and out. He grabbed his arm and sucked unabashedly at the Mark, tasting the drying remains of Dean's release, and Dean jerked and keened.

"Harder," he demanded, bending his knees. Cas groaned, reaching down to hook his arms under Dean's legs and pulling them up until they were resting on his shoulders. He wrapped his hands around Dean's thighs and slammed in as hard as he could, and Dean choked out a wail.

"Fuck, yeah, just like that, fuck --" He reached down to fist himself, but Cas grabbed his arm, tight around the Mark, and he screamed, arching his back.

"Want you to come on my cock," Cas growled, fucking him relentlessly. "I know you can do it."

"Fuck, fuck, harder, Cas, _please_..." His strangled litany ended with a gasp as Cas ground in deep, and he went rigid, coming again in hard, hot spurts all over his belly as his forearm flexed in Cas' grasp.

Cas fucked him through his orgasm, feeling his own coiling low and throbbing in his stomach. Just before it hit him he pulled out, pushing Dean's arm across his chest, and moved up to straddle his hips. He stroked himself twice, quick and hard, and then he was spilling over in shiny pools over the lines of the Mark.

Dean cried out, but even as he tried to jerk away he spasmed, more weak strings of come sliding down his half-hard cock.

Cas gripped his forearm tight and they stared at each other, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths.

"Jesus," Dean finally croaked, closing his eyes.

"Far from," Cas said softly. He released Dean's arm, but began rubbing the drying liquid into the darkened skin with gentle, reverent fingers. Dean hissed without opening his eyes.

"So what, your spunk's like angel aloe?" he said weakly. "Fuckin' weird, dude."

"Maybe," he said. Dean snorted, but he relaxed as Cas continued his ministrations, until every inch of the Mark was covered in a fine sheen. "How do you feel?"

Dean was silent for a moment. "I don't know," he finally said, then paused. "I mean, pretty fuckin' awesome --" he wiggled his hips, and Cas smiled, "-- but kind of… blank?"

Cas hummed, pulling Dean's hand up to plant a kiss on the inside of his wrist, still slightly reddened from the demon cuffs.

"You haven't killed me," he pointed out. "You could have."

Dean blinked at him, then broke into a low, genuine laugh. "Way to set the bar low there, Cas."

**Author's Note:**

> feedback always welcome! feedback, comments, love, hugs, clothing advice, life advice, what-have-I-done-with-my-life advice, and also puppies.
> 
> find me on tumblr at [relucant](http://relucant.tumblr.com). I'm nice.


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